Shiny
++ Kaon ++ Sometimes in life, you make plans. In fact, you tend to make a lot of plans. Blast Off was not an exception to this rule. No, he made many plans... long ago he made plans of glorious days of space exploration and the undying respect of citizens throughout the cosmos as he and the other Combaticons worked as Primal Vanguards, keeping order across the galaxy. That plan... went astray, and the Combaticons found themselves reduced to cerebro-cortexes, sparks and T-cogs in Garrus-1. Upon waking from that nightmare and under the control of the Senate, Blast Off tried to make plans again... that one day he'd be free to pursue the life of luxury he feels he deserves... or at least one of comfort and dignity. As far opposite from that hell he endured in prison for so long. Well, that didn't quite work out either, and here he is now, a fugitive on the run from the law and suddenly finding himself hiding in Kaon- the dregs of Cybertron. He walks along the edge of the Rust Seas, a mining pit nearby. Workers grind and toil and the air is thick with dust and particles. The high class shuttle grimaces under his faceplate and keeps trudging on, trying to find his way through this grimy labyrinth and see if there is ANYthing remotely civilized around here while avoiding anything... uncouth. This... this was /never/ in his plans. A dark small shape stands not too far off from that pit, covered in a heavy cloak that almost seems to shimmer and disappear in the low lights of the area, it's attention seemingly on the miners at work. Blast Off's trudging however seems to draw it's attention, it's head shifting to look in the Combaticon's direction. Then.. it seems to disappear. Not move, not hide, just seems to fade away quickly and suddenly from view. Blast Off is too self-absorbed right now to notice anything unusual. He glances here and there, but sees nothing familiar, nothing classy, nothing he wants to know. He gets vibes of prison here... though now instead of being inside looking out, he's outside looking in. No... he's in it, too... and he wants out but doesn't know how to GET out. And for once, "prison" is safer than the Outside anyway. A strong gust of wind from the Rusts Seas blows in, and he has to brace against the force. Once it subsides he continues on. A voice, soft but clear and vaguely feminie.. if a bit distorted, comes from just besides Blast Off's elbow, "You have shiney wings, handsome. Care to.. part with one?" And then a brief, almost teasing, tug is felt at one of them before the hand moves away. And still no sound is heard, or movement seen. Blast Off freezes as soon as the voice chimes in so close... then whirls his head around sharply at the tug on the wing folded across his leg. "What the-?!" His body tense, his hand flexing as if debating bringing out his ionic blaster, he takes a step back. Violet optics shine through the haze as he gazes around him, trying to spot the origin of that voice. "Who said that?" Harbinger reaches up and slides her hood off.. her form drifting into form in a almost lazy fashion, and her voice becomes clear and softly musical toned, "Are all surface-walkers so blind to what's around them?" Her visor retract, showing a soft smile on her actual face.. her antennas twitching a bit as she looks at the larger mech, "Did not think you were that blind... or would of said something ealier." Blast Off locks his gaze on the femme as she shows herself. He takes in the sleek form, which appears non-threatening... for now, at least- so his weapon remains in subspace. He straightens and looks haughtily down at her. "Blind? Surface-walker? I am a *space shuttle*... I soar through the galaxy. Do NOT confuse me with some groundpounder." He sniffs with a hint of disdain, "And how can I see what was hidden? You must possess a cloaking device or something..." His gaze drifts to the antennaes, then back to her face. "...Who are you, anyway?" He demands. Harbinger tilts her head to the side as she stares up at Blast Off, "You.. look familiar for some reason..." She pulls out a few raggy looking pieces of metal.. which, at a bare glance, might look vaguely like scribbed down wanted posters, "Nope.. nope.. nope.." She stops at one, the art on it awful, looks up at Blast Off then back and forth a few times, "Nope.. nevermind, not you. Your far too ugly to be this one." And the pieces of mtal disappear back under the cloak. Harbinger tilts her head to the side as she stares up at Blast Off, "You.. look familiar for some reason..." She pulls out a few raggy looking pieces of metal.. which, at a bare glance, might look vaguely like scribbed down wanted posters, "Nope.. nope.. nope.." She stops at one, the art on it awful, looks up at Blast Off then back and forth a few times, "Nope.. nevermind, not you. Your far too ugly to be this one... nor 'Has wine typically on them in some form or shape'" And the pieces of metal disappear back under the cloak and her gaze goes back to Blast Off, "Who are you?" Then Blast Off moves a bit, and her gaze is drawn to the wings again, "Shiney..." and tries to walk around him to look at them clearly again. Blast Off stiffens at the mention of "looking familiar"... and those "wanted poster" sketches do NOT make him rest any easier. The comment about being "ugly" gains an annoyed huff and narrowed optics, but he's smart enough to not say anything. But the wine... wait, what? He blinks, then attempts to grab the note. "Wine? It says I... uh, HE has WINE on him?" The shuttle glares down, trying to see. But she seems far too interested in his wings, and the shuttle turns, trying to prevent her from getting too close. "I beg your PARDON. They're MINE. I *need* them." And he tries to shoo her off. Harbinger keeps moving aorund Blast Off even as he turns, and even giggles as she starts to move a bit faster to get behind him "But you have TWO! And they are SO pretty." Finally.. she suddenly goes the other way if Blast Off tries to keep her from looking more closely.. "I'll Give ya... uhm... I'll give you.." She starts pulling a rather odd asssortment of things from under the cloak, a few pieces of metal.. what /might/ be a chewed on hand and other random and odd looking things, and never stopping as she does, "Just a piece? PPPLLLEEAAASSEEEE? Want to add it to my collection!" Blast Off keeps turning until he begins to get a little dizzy and... oh slag this. He stops and stands still now, keeping only his head facing the strange femme... as much as possible, at least. The shuttle's ventilation systems cycle more rapidly and his trigger finger twitches as he considers bringing his weapon out. But he's *trying* not to make a scene. Pity she doesn't seem to be doing the same. "They are NOT for Sale!! I will not compromise my ability to fly or enter space in any way, shape, or form! Would you consider selling off your *legs*? Your *arms?*" He blinks as she hands him... what again? There's another annoyed huff and he steps back, waving her off. "Absolutely NOT." Speaking of *plans*... this wasn't in the plans, either, and his already sour mood only deepens. "Now leave me be! I have... I have things to do!" Ok, he lies. The only plan right now is... get away from *this* person. Harbinger flicks shoulders and knocks her cloak back and flexes out the six small 'legs' from her ant-form, "Want two legs for one wing?" Then as she finally circles behind him she smiles, and in that same silly musical voice, "I would highly suggest /not/ trying to draw a weapon... not with me this close, Mr Shuttle.. I'll rip your wings off, shred them down and force them down your throat before you could aim and fire." She circles around him after that and stands infront of him, her hands clasped behind her waist as her antennas and ant-arms wiggles a bit to the sides, "But I won't do that, since you have nice wings and I won't damage such shiney wings. Why are you so grumpy though? Was just honest question, and a fair trade, your wings ARE shiney.. and pretty. Sure you don't want to trade?" Blast Off whirls his head around at the threat, eying the femme warily. His weapon remains in subspace for now. He's cautious... a stranger in a strange land, but he's not afraid... he's a *space shuttle*, after all, and his arrogant confidence remains largely intact. "Is that so? Then why haven't you simply done so and taken things by force? I'm sure the damage would be minimal, if you're as skilled as you say..." The shuttleformer glares at Harbinger as she continues coveting his wings. The staring makes him feel.. dirty somehow, and he steps back again with another soft huff. "I am not GRUMPY. I am... I am..." He gazes around him, taking in this gloomy, grimy, unhappy scene all around before looking at Harbinger again. "I don't belong here. That's all." Harbinger tilts her head to the side, "Why don't I? Because I prefer to trade for what I want.. there is no fun in just taking it. No finesse to it." She remains standing there, extra arms twitching almost in time to some kind of music, her antennas moving with the same sway, "If I had truly wanted to just... take it.. you would of only known as they were being ripped from you." She gives one of her better smiles, though the mandibles that twitch to either side of her mouth do kinda.. make it look a bit off, "You walked here, so you belong here." She reaches back into one of the pockets linking the inner cloak, and pulls out a small canister to which she sips from before putting it away, the scent of something sweet waffing from the brief time it was open, "If you really don't belong, why are oyu here then? Looking for a job... miners dont live very long. Accidents happen, or my brothers and sisters find them and eat them... or use to." She suddenly goes OOOHHSS and bounces in place, "Do you need a guide? I can guide you, show you all the good places.. maybe in trade for a wing?" Blast Off hmphs softly at the femme, but doesn't say anything. Though when she starts twitches mandibles he blinks and leans back. "You're... in Insecticon?!" He sounds surprised- probably because he hasn't seen many before. Just one, in fact. Upon the offer of a guide, he starts waving her away, "No, I do NOT need a guid..." Then he stops. Actually, he could use one. But ...HER? He glares at the femme. "Why should I trust you?" A huff. "NO WINGS." Harbinger mimoc's Blast Off's voice fairly well, "NO WINGS" Then nods her head, "No wings and proud of it." Then her impish grin returns, that voicing taunting just a little bit, "Awww... not afraid of a little old Insecticon like me are you? Big shiney mech like you?" She rolls her shoulders as the grin turns into a smile, "Why should you trust anyone? All I can say is.. a deal is a deal, a trade is a trade, a betrayal is death. Simple... clear.. and honest." Blast Off's engines get into the act now, grumbling slightly as the femme mocks him. He glances around him again, taking in the desolation and despair. With some reluctance he returns to gazing at Harbinger. "Of course not, I just haven't seen many of your kind before." Apparently he's seen at least *one other* though.... He insists with another wave of his hand, "I just... well... true, trust is NOT something that comes easily... here or anywhere else." He leans in slightly to look down at her. "But you still haven't said what you want in exchange for this..."guidance". And I'm NOT giving up pieces of myself." Harbinger's expression darkens for a moment, "At times one piece must be sacrified so the rest survive." No emotion touches her voice that time, but the dark expression fades quickly into another wide grin, "Make a offer, big boy. Your the one who dislikes my offer." She starts walking again, though her movements are more like a hunter's then the lazy carefree way she walked before, "What is a guide here worth to /you/?" Blast Off studies the Insecticon, torn between wanting to simply walk away and wondering if he might actually need her help. The shuttleformer looks around miserably and starts rubbing an arm absent-mindedly for a moment before catching himself. A wing elevon twitches nervosuly, and he finally replies, "I... I..." Ouch, this is hard for the prideful shuttle to admit. "I don't *have* much. I'm... between bank accounts, you see, and..." His expression darkens as his shoulders sag a little. "...I just have... myself." He lies just a little... he *does* have a stash of very rare, valuable Element Zero tucked safely away... but he's not planning on telling anyone about it. It's his only ticket out. Otherwise what he says is true. The only thing he CAN offer is himself... No, not THAT way. "I am... a shuttle, after all..." He mutters, not liking *this* one bit. Harbinger tilts her head to the side and watches the mech for a moment then huffs, then shuffles through her pockets inside the cloak for a moment and pulls that small flask out agian then offers it to the larger mech, "You need this more then I do if your poorer then my kind." The twin antennas on her head start to twitch again then she finally says, "I'm bored... and I'm hungry.." She grins just a bit at the mech, "You'd make a lasting feast I think.. but.. for now. You will owe me a favor, and you owe me a /good/ meal. By MY standards." Her eyes glow bright for a second, "IF you accept... keep the agreement.. or you won't see me coming. IF you want a guide through here that is.." Blast Off flinches ever-so-slightly at her words, especially the part of being a "lasting feast"... but he remains standing there, listening. He regards her silently for a long moment. "As long as it's not TOO unreasonable- or *permanent* for me... and that feast doesn't include /myself or my friends/..." He deliberates a moment longer. "Then I accept." She clearly considers that, "You... are safe. Friends.. not so much. Will only say they are safe as far as they are last choices.. if other choices are avaiable." She tilts her head to the other side, "Sure you don't wish to just offer wing? Can replace later, yes?" Her mandibles click together with a fairly loud and sharp noise, "But ANY who insult me.. not safe." She turns and starts walking over, "Come then.. I take you to new nest for now." She then takes a sip from the flask that was refused and gives a low mmrrrr sound that sounds.. odd. "Mmm... merchant know wine.. very good.. very sharp." She flips her cloak back up, and settles it into place, and goes back to looking like any other low caste type. Blast Off stiffly replies, "I am NOT giving up my ability to FLY. Not for *anything*." He considers, but must reiterate, "No, my *friends* are NOT on the menu. I have some... companions and if harm came to them... then I will NOT be pleased." He does give a slight nod, "But very well... no insults." He looks uncertain as she drinks from the flask. "I don't need a new... "nest", I do have a place to stay with someone for now. But I need to know where to go- and where to avoid." He glances at that flask. "Wine?" Harbinger turns as she walks, and moves backwards without a hesitation, "We go there so I can get /my/ things, then I show you good and bad places." She seems lost in thought there for a second, "Well... bad and really bad places... this is Kaon. NO good places, so will show you.. safe.. ish.. places" She then turns around and keeps walking, then finally tosses the flask over her shoulder back towards Blast Off, "Come, let us go before things worse then me find you, Mr Shuttle Who Wont Trade Wings." Blast Off catches the flask, possessing excellent reflexes if less than excellent luck. "...Ah." He holds the flask, staring, then takes a whiff. Ahhh, it IS wine. He hesitates a moment longer, then takes a sip from the flask before following the Insecticon. "...Fine." No, this most definitely was NOT in the plans. For now, he can only hope this will turn out to be a case of serendipity. But can you even find such a cheerful thing ...in a place like Kaon?